A Cyclical Moon
by peachfur
Summary: Two lives affected by time and fate. Together they'll find themselves bound by both, their consequences, and to each other. But will they discover if it's all as final as it seems? (SessKag) [M for violence and adult themes]
1. Chapter 1

This fic is a semi-AU that will touch base occasionally with the source material. Some of the events in the original story will occur and familiar characters will make appearances, others might not, but I'm determined to keep it as authentic as possible while still telling a story from a unique point of view. So without further ado here's a fic that was a long time coming. [Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters or the source material they come from.]

* * *

 **A Cyclical Moon**

 **Book One**

* * *

Prologue

The night was alive around her swelling and rising with shrill screams and guttural howls, thrumming rhythmically, violently. Beside her, a beast had dropped riddled with wounds its jaw pulverized by what had at one time been a crudely made mace. Deprived of a bottom jaw the doomed thing could only gurgle as it lay dying. Blood spattered and rained, it misted in the air coating everything it touched like summer rain.

Beyond in the hills the opposing sides clashed, splitting each other's hides to sway the battle in their own favors. A constant clamor of metal and bone sang out its turbulent song between the bodies at war and yet nothing slowed.

They had come from across the sea, land, risen from cracks in the earth all ready to die for their convictions. In their eyes burned their lust, hunger, rage.

Despite all this her hands had not wavered. She'd shot arrow after arrow, her fingers moving with a learned grace born out of necessity. All her training, all the pain had brought her to this moment.

Acrid smoke permeated the night from fires left to burn themselves out. The eerie light from them cast shadows that were as menacing as their owners. Perhaps they were worse, these disembodied creatures without conscious or voice, stretching and contorting grotesquely.

Her hair streamed out behind her, whipping in the hot winds that had risen with the din. At her temples blood, her own, ran stickily down her face dotting the ground beneath her feet where it had dripped from her jaw. A hypnotic calm had rested its mantle across her shoulders; A confident strength steeled itself in her legs, keeping her still in the chaos and carnage around her.

It was time to end the entity before her now and she would be its reckoning.

But would it be enough, would it end it all? Would it bring about peace and end the devastation?

The thought gave her pause.

Could it? The question crawled to the fore front of her mind seeping into her confidence. She shivered, a cold fear was threatening to rear up in her heart. The idea of it all having been for nothing was too much to bear.

Tears, hot and stinging, welled at the corners of her eyes.

As if called to her by the smell of her hesitation he appeared at her side. Silent as a shadow he'd come from the battle field seemingly unmarked; she'd seen him out there, lithe and agile as a dancer, deadly and unmatched in his abilities.

Now he stood beside her and though she hadn't turned to look him in the eye she knew he was looking at her. His gaze had weight and pierced with its intensity.

Without speaking a word, he had said enough. She realized that if she had reached out at that moment, her hand could've held his.

Once again, she lifted her bow and steadied her arm, blinking away her useless tears. In unison, they turned and raised their faces up to witness before them what had started all of this.

In the sky, the silent ever watchful moon had risen.

* * *

Chapter One: In Plain Sight

* * *

The train moved at a rapid swaying pace beneath her. Warm afternoon light streamed through the windows catching dust motes in their endless swirling dances. Above her a voice chimed the next destination with its chipper voice, as if it too was warmed by the sunlight shining in. Beside her a gentleman was dozing, his briefcase nestled in his arms and his glasses slipping dangerously low on the bridge of his nose. Giggling to her right made her turn to see a small girl pointing at pictures in book while her grandmother helped her read it, a loving smile on her lined face.

A beautiful day to be sure despite the bumps she'd had up until this point. She glanced down at the ink spots splotched across the right sleeve of her uniform shirt, the result of her ink pen exploding during a particularly brutal math test. Then she turned her attention to the stinging scrapes across her knee, a present from a fall she'd taken while she was carrying a mountain of makeup work and textbooks through the courtyard. Her knee hadn't been the only casualty she'd managed to skin both her hands in the process of trying to keep her face from meeting the concrete. To top it all off she'd realized too late that she'd forgotten two crucial books, her calculator, and both of her back up sets of notes behind after the last bell."Might as well torch my backpack while I'm at it", she thought," The perfect end to my academic career." It would have been a lie if she'd said the thought hadn't crossed her mind on more than one occasion.

Maybe she'd be lucky enough to have a meteor fall from the sky only to land directly on the school thus freeing her from her scholarly shackles. Wishful thinking at its best.

Her friends had peppered her with questions. They meant well, but that didn't stop them from needling her with heir not so well hidden nosy probing.

The train was jerkily coming to a stop it's brakes whirring and clicking while the passengers gathered their things. With an abrupt snort, the dozing man beside her woke bleary eyed with his hands fumbling for his briefcase, the battle to prevent his glasses from hitting the ground lost. Across from her the little girl was slipping her arms through a small school bag, holding out a small hand for her grandmother to take.

Over the intercom the conductor recited the stop and the ones to come amidst the final stuttered shuffling of the train's stop. Like school children the passengers lined up behind the doors ready to exit and continue with their daily lives. Some would go on to their families and home cooked meals, others to friends and a fun night out, and another portion would skip it all to find comfort in a splendid afternoon nap. None of whom would be subjected to mountainous amounts of torturous school work. "Lucky them,"she thought bitterly andwith one last dejected sigh Kagome Higurashi heaved on her heavily laden backpack and stepped off the train _._

* * *

"I'm not sure I can do much more for them, dear." Mrs. Higurashi held out a battered pair of jeans their legs stained by grass along with other less savory things and a knee shredded almost completely away. It was clear that she'd scrubbed away what she could and done her best to patch the hole. Not an easy task especially when you considered what had left them so dirty in the first place.

Kagome felt her battered knee twinge as if channeling the previous injury that resulted in the sad sight before her. She took the pitiful bundle from her mom a bubble of love rising in her heart. Her mother was a more than welcome buoy of warmth and kindness after a less than stellar day. Despite the jeans being a lost cause, her mother had taken great pains to make them even a tiny bit more presentable.

"It's alright mom, they definitely look much better than before. Thanks". She took them and gingerly placed them in an open dresser drawer turning back to her mother with a smile.

Mrs. Higurashi had never once pried into what exactly happened to Kagome once she crossed over time. Time and again Kagome had returned with various bumps and bruises, not all of them visible, and she was there without fail to tend to every one she could.

"You're more than welcome, Kagome. Are you spending the night here?"

Kagome hoped her smile hadn't slipped too much. She couldn't be honest about the _real_ reason she had come home. A silly little argument that had of course gotten out of hand and led to her quick return to the present. An argument that had popped like a venom filled balloon, poisoning not only the facilitators but the audience as well.

"I guess I just wanted to sleep in a real bed tonight. Sleeping on the ground sure gets old, and with the summer coming it's gotten pretty hot out." Kagome put on her most winning "Nothing's wrong. Not a single itty-bitty thing "smile, all the while hoping that even if she wasn't believable to herself it would put any questions her mom might have brewing in her mind at ease.

Her efforts were rewarded with a warm smile and a hug.

"If you need anything else before you go jus- "

Kagome pulled away and cut her off not unkindly. "Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine. Promise"

She did her best to keep her voice light, even when a short pause rose between them. Her mother wasn't oblivious and both knew more was being left unsaid. But like so many times before Mrs. Higurashi left the door of her sympathetic, never deaf, ear open, it was up to Kagome whether she wanted to walk through it or not.

"Alright. Sweet dreams, dear. I love you. With that said, and the unsaid acknowledged silently between them she shut Kagome's door behind her.

Kagome slumped down on her bed a weary sigh issuing from both herself and the mattress. How much more could the day throw at her? She didn't enjoy keeping things from her mother especially things as ridiculous as getting in an argument and running home afterwards. But how could she begin to explain it, how it had even come about in the first place was enough to still rile her.

She flung herself angrily backwards, arms spread wide, her hand balled into painful fists. The frustration was back and bubbling low inside her.

Hadn't she come back to avoid this? Avoid even thinking about it. A childish reaction to be sure, coming back and leaving things unsettled behind her. She'd had the last word and promptly cut off the conversation so to speak. But deep down she knew she shouldn't have. What would this accomplish other than more fall out to deal with in the long run, no doubt even now it was building into an icy standoff of "who will come after whom"?

She wasn't above the introspection into her own actions.

It hadn't really been her fault, she'd reacted the best way she knew how. Maybe it wasn't the best of plans but she'd been thinking on her feet. Besides, what should she have done? It's not like any one had died as a result.

Her chest tightened a little at that. No one had died, true, but it had been close. She could admit that.

But along with the frustration came the guilt. It slithered its way into her conscious, as it often did when it was least convenient. She pushed the feeling away as best she could. What good would it do now? All she was doing was running around in circles at this point.

Her knee had started to throb again. By tomorrow it would be painfully bruised, and her hands would be scabbed over and sting irritatingly every time she touched something.

She shuffled around until her head rested on her pillow and breathed in the freshness of the cover, courtesy of her mom's ever attentive hand. It was as if she had a homing antenna attuned to her daughter's feelings and knew the exact moment when she'd need small sweet things like fresh sheets and kind words, even if she was centuries in the past.

Outside the afternoon had faded into evening, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon line. In the distance, the trains were running back and forth, clattering along their tracks, their loud whistling softened an far off.

Soon enough the crickets would begin their night time symphonies, singing as if it was their songs that made the sun set.

She could hear her grandpa sweeping just below her window. The even measured strokes of the broom were lulling and she could feel her eyes growing heavier and heavier. Sleep was a more than welcome escape and she willingly sank into it, tomorrow she'd decide on exactly how to go about rectifying this testy situation. "If I don't drown in school work first anyway," she thought dejectedly _._ And with an uneasy image of herself neck deep in a pool of homework and test papers marked with large glaringly red F's she finally slept.

* * *

Sometime after the house had quieted, the elderly keeper of the shrine made his way up the stone path and stopped before the sacred tree as he had countless times before. It stood as it always had in a dignified sort of quiet, it's only knothole scarred centuries ago by a single arrow. Standing before it as the night settled in he was again aware of an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. A deep foreboding had been dwelling in his mind.

His hip was aching a bit now as it occasionally did on these walks. With a wince, he turned around to make his way back to the house and the comfort of a hot cup of tea.

For what seemed like weeks he'd been jumping at shadows and sounds like a frightened child. This thing, whatever it was , was not something tangible that he could dispel with blessings or purifying salt. No, it was no common demon or ever a ghost for that matter. In truth, he was in no way certain he would've know it even if the thing had walked right up to him and gave him a hard-swift kick in his behind.

It weighed on his mind this blatant faceless thing that left him disquieted and fearful. His grandchildren, and at times his daughter-in-law, liked to poke fun at his chants and prayers. They believed he had no more power than the average tree stump. To extent perhaps they were right. But even he wasn't completely blind in his inner eye.

Now in the dimly lit kitchen it took some time for him to fill the kettle and ready the leaves. While his eyes weren't necessarily weak they weren't sharp either.

He'd first noticed it's creeping about while sweeping the steps below the tori gate. All at once he'd felt as if a transparent sheet had been dropped over his head, smothering him. The broom he'd been holding fell to the ground and at that moment he thought he would too. And then as quickly as it had come the feeling was gone.

His hand shuddered at the memory and he nearly dropped the scalding hot water. Remembering how he'd felt chilled him to the bone. He'd been as helpless as a rabbit caught in a snare. And now, it was if he'd been stained by the encounter, and this thing, whatever it was, was stalking his mind.

Once he had the leaves brewing he lowered himself into a kitchen chair to let them steep. The ache in his hip was in full swing now but it he wouldn't let it distract him from his thoughts.

And it wasn't as if he could sense it always. It came and went like a headache did. It could be as overwhelming as a migraine at times and disappear moments later as if it had never existed.

Perhaps it wasn't something as sinister as he thought. It could easily just be that he was being overly sensitive to his surroundings, that somehow a story of his granddaughters from the feudal era had influenced his subconscious fears. He wasn't as young as he once was of course, things had a funny way of dulling on you in your golden years. And it wasn't as if he could sense it always. It came and went like a headache did. It could be as overwhelming as a migraine at times and disappear moments later as if it had never existed.

He shook his head slowly. No, this was no flippant indulgence of imagination. Something was out there, something menacing and sneaky. It was hidden to him to be sure, but the dread he felt was very real.

Behind him a sudden creak at the stairs startled him into knocking both the kettle ad his cup off the kitchen table. His heart felt as if it had frozen to a hard lump as he whirled around.

At the foot of the stairs Mrs. Higurashi stood a look of concern and surprise on her face.

The ache in his hip flared as he tried to keep himself from stumbling over. At his feet, the kettle was spilling out around the broken ceramic pieces of what was once one of his favorite cups.

"Grandpa, are you alright?" she asked, rushing forward to steady him.

His breath came in short little bursts as she eased him back into his chair.

"F-Fine. I'm fine. Just a little alarmed." He put a hand over his heart sure that the bugger might try to leap out and head for the hills at any moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that. I was just coming down to check on you." She had a small crease between her brows, her telltale sign of deep concern.

The hand he held up to pat hers on his shoulder shook slightly. "A man my age tends to jump out of his skin at even the little things from time to time," he said while pasting on a phony smile eerily like his granddaughter's.

Mrs. Higurashi looked him in his eyes, not at all fooled. "I'll clean this up. You stay put."

As she began to sop up the spilled contents of the kettle and sweep up the shattered remains of his cup, he gathered himself together. It was no good to be this jumpy, especially not if it alarmed his family.

"I'll get you some more tea. OK?" She had finished cleaning and was dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash.

He nodded solemnly and folded his hands on the table before him. Maybe he was far more rattled then he'd thought; this was easily becoming a detriment to his health. Before he knew it, he might become a ghost himself.

"Now, what on earth has got you so upset?' Mrs. Higurashi asked while refilling the kettle. "You're white as a sheet."

He glanced down at his hands, wrinkled and mottled with age. Time had, in its unforgiving way, left him vulnerable. And now he was confronted with a problem he hadn't the faintest idea how to solve. How could he even begin to explain to her about something he couldn't even _see_?

She had seated herself across from him, the worry line between her brows still plainly visible. "Grandpa?"

He searched his mind for something to say. Something that would relive her worry and set her mind at ease over witnessing, and to some degree causing, his near-death experience.

"I suppose I've been a little tense lately", he began slowly his eyes lowered. "There's been-," he paused, "There been some things on my mind."

The line between her brows deepened, "What do you mean?"

On the stove, the kettle began to wail. Both jumped that time, and both laughed a little at themselves before Mrs. Higurashi rose to take the kettle from the burner.

Their laughter seemed to break the tension of the situation and he could start again. "I suppose in my old age I've let the unknown affect me far more than it should. And now I'm being spooked by sounds in empty kitchens." He was trying his best to be vague but honest. There was no use in frightening her with a phantom boogeyman.

Her concern was slowly melting before his eyes, turning instead into loving sympathy. Before she could speak he had reached across the table to take one of her hands in both of his, patting it. "I know I'm just being silly. There's no need to worry about me. It'll take more than a few night time frights to put me out of commission. I still have a duty to this shrine to fulfill don't I?."

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "We love you, Grandpa. You know if you need anything at all, we're here."

He sat back and for the first time in what felt like a long time he smiled a genuine smile. One that warmed him at his heart.

But in the back of his mind the fear was still there, as present as ever, patiently waiting for him to settle in on it again. It had come to his attention and he knew ignoring it was not an option.

Together he and Mrs. Higurashi sipped their tea in a comfortable silence, enjoying the quiet company they provided each other.

Outside the wind had picked up, stirring everything it touched in it its path. It screamed out voicelessly into the night, ageless and eternal.

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A/N

This is the first chapter in what i hope will be a decent sized multi-chapter fic. As it's my first real fic (the first I've published publicly anyway) input is definitely welcome. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy what's to come. - peachfur


	2. Chapter 2: Fateful Decisions

**A Cyclical Moon**

Chapter 2: Fateful Decisions

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The torches burned brightly, their light drawing moths who did not seem bothered as the fire licked the tip of their wings. In the shadows gathering after the setting of the sun crickets hopped in the thickets of grass that had grown wild along with the weeds. Across a neglected pond, it's surface thick with algae, dragonflies and mosquitoes skated, rippling the water behind them. A frog, startled by footfalls, leaped from its hiding place beneath the wooden panels of the porch and escaped into the filmy waters of the courtyard pond, breaking through the thick crust as if were only a thin membrane, disappearing.

At all this Jaken, servant of a great lord, sneered.

Deep in thought, he strode quickly to heed a summons that came with bad tidings. The message, brought to him through the mouth of another, was short, but that meant nothing; Jaken could read the urgency between the lines. He had been at the service of a demon who left little room for error, for some time, a deft eye and quick action were necessary for survival. His belly clenched uncomfortably. Proof of that had come when his master had ordered him to find the place where his footsteps now echoed back at him. There had been no warning or room for questions. Once again, remembering the situation as clear as if it had occurred only the day before, his stomach clenched. Truth was he had indeed asked a single question but had quickly closed his mouth when he had seen the expression on his lord's face; only an individual with no self-preservation would have continued, and if Jaken loved anything other than serving his lord, it was his own skin.

The search had been short and fruitful, due in part to the instructions given to him being clear and icy with the implication of severe punishment if he failed. If he could say one thing about himself, it was that he knew how to obey. But of course, he had succeeded. The castle had seemed to materialize out of thin air as if it had known it was sought after. Its darkened halls and crumbling facades had done little to reassure him when had entered that day. To him its dilapidation had immediately disqualified it from consideration, all matter of vermin had made themselves at home in the eaves and corners of its buildings. Cobwebs, some thick enough and large enough to fill him with dread over the possibility of meeting whatever had spun them, wound themselves in whorls and carefully constructed geometric shapes throughout. He had not ventured further that day. Later, when he had returned to his master and informed him of his find, Jaken had noticed that at some point during his distasteful excursion something had covered him with the same silken strands. It had not been a pleasant discovery. All his misgivings would not matter in the end, for his master chose the haunted place despite what Jaken had told him. And now, they had taken up residence here, like squatters in a ruin.

In the outlying mountains, a thunderstorm was picking up, swirling around rocky peaks with dark clouds heavy with rain. Sporadically streaks of lighting would flash, the loud booming of thunder following soon after.

It had been grand once, a testament to the prosperity and power of the lord who had constructed it, this castle. Built into the side of a mountain, with trails leading both through its peaks and down towards the edge of a major river, it was impenetrable from outside invaders. From the riverside attackers had few choices, be spotted easily or, without knowledge of the mountain or its perils, fall prey to the dangers it held in its craggy passages. Merchants and traders had often traveled through this keep seeking refuge from the elements, and upon seeing how well protected it was, had offered their wares as payment to the lord who could provide them with safety and shelter. Of course, he was no fool either, he was more than willing to accept these offerings as they could easily be sold off to supply weaponry and supplies, as well as serve to further inflate the aesthetic richness of his dwelling. It seemed that the latter was more important to him than the enrichment of his army. In every room stood furniture that had been richly lacquered, some having inlays of mother of pearl and what was most certainly gold. He had examined them himself, running a nail gently across the shimmering metal and leaving tiny dents, peering closely at gems that had scattered across floors from broken chains. He could feel the grime collecting at the bottoms of his feet as he walked around and between these things, itchy and dry. Folding screens and wall scrolls depicting expansive landscapes and victorious battles decorated rooms long left to gather layers of dust and mildew. Now, this place, and the opulent things it held, was nothing more than a relic of greed.

 _A lot of good it did him,_ he thought with contempt. The lord, whoever he had been, had left his glorious home under mysterious circumstances. From what Jaken had gathered from the lesser demons of the region, the humans had run from this place screaming in terror. The noble family among them, and if the rumors had been true, the lord had been covered in blood, and his infant son was nowhere in sight.

Jaken stepped through an open doorway, the paper screens broken on the floor, and made his way to the main hall. He had been overseeing the newest arrivals at work opening a well that the humans capped before abandoning this place. It seemed that the humans, in fear of something, had opted to drink only from the main source within the estate's walls. It was not clear if that something was what had driven them out in the first place. No sour smell had risen once they removed the boards however, which had been a surprise with the way the rest of the estate had faded into ruin, he was sure there would have be a pungent outpouring. It was during this that his lord had beckoned him, and he had wasted no time returning to the castle.

The smell of cooking fires wafted past him, and down the halls beyond the main court yard, the clanging of pots and utensils accompanied shouts and chattering. That had been another unexpected happening here. Smaller, weaker demons had flocked to the castle soon after he and his lord had arrived, and within a brief period their numbers had swelled. Now they took control of the battlements and gates as sentries, repaired, cleaned, and cooked meals that fed only themselves and their families; Jaken did not take his meals with them, nor did his master, though that was no surprise, he had not seen him leave the central living quarters since they had arrived. The absence of the lord of the manor did not dissuade these servants from seeing to the daily tasks of putting the castle to rights however. They had already reclaimed the kitchen and the armory, seen to the endless polishing and dusting, and had aired out all the available bedding, taking care to burn anything that was beyond saving. Now there were only a few rooms left that were still decrepit, as well as the pavilion and the overrun garden that surrounded it. Rooms, he had noticed, that were closest to their lord's.

Jaken had been adamant about not letting them enter when they had first appeared at the gates imploring him to allow them to work for the demon lord they had heard had taken the castle as his. At first, he had denied them entrance with his usual dismissals. He told them there was no need for them here and that if they valued their lives they would flee. But as time went on and an increasing number of them accumulated before the gates, their cries growing louder, and he knew he would have to bring up the matter with his master. Worry worked at his nerves, eating through them until he knew that if he let it go any longer they would find a way to go around him and beseech him on their own behalves. Something like that, at a time such as this, would be detrimental not only to them but more importantly _himself._

After hours of pacing he had finally managed to force himself to make the short and nerve racking journey to call upon his lord. Unfortunately, when he had pulled open the door that lead to the inner room, after announcing himself as softly as he dared, he found he did not have the courage to enter further than the doorway itself. Had his lord not turned, after what seemed like an eternity, to acknowledge his presence he might be there still, stuck in place like some statue. Once he had managed to cross the threshold his knees had begun their treacherous shaking, and although that was not necessarily a new reaction it was a reminder that even now, in this state, the son of the great dog general should never be underestimated.

He had approached quietly, mindful not to let his feet drag, and at a respectable distance carefully laid out his report of the situation at the castle's gates. His words had come out stiffly, and when he had finished they hung in the air, trailing off in to an uncertain silence. He was not sure that his master heard, let alone understood, despite those golden eyes still staring into his own. There had been no movement or even a small gesture to reassure him that he had not made a fool of himself by speaking too quietly or had not been clear enough. Dismissal, usually shown to him with the disinterested turning away of his master did not occur either, instead he received a reply he had not expected. _Do as you will, Jaken._ The response chilled him in a way he did not fully grasp. Not the words themselves he later realized when he was able to dwell on the strange interaction, but the tone. He felt for just a moment that he was not speaking to someone made of flesh and bone, but an empty imitation filled with nothing of substance. If not for the eyes being open and visible, smoldering even in the dimness of the room, it would have seemed to him that he had been speaking to some idol that had divinely chosen to answer back.

He would have begun again, mustering the rest of his already depleted store of courage, to beg his master for guidance, had it not been for the soft sounds of labored breathing and the familiar noises of restless stirring.

Both had turned then, toward a sickbed close to the window. His lord rose from his seat to cross the short distance and lowered himself before the small mass beneath the linens. His arm, the only one he possessed, stretched out so that his palm could search for fever on a tiny brow.

Jaken, not needing to be told with words, not now, knew he was discharged and left without another word.

The moon had almost filled since then, a week perhaps, maybe more. And in that time, he had taken to heart his master's words and had given them permission to enter. He had found that their presence meant very little to him, a sign that the strained circumstances surrounding them all had started to take their effect upon him as well. Before he would have chased them away himself, his staunch protection of his role as sole servant to the lord they had so readily begged to serve. They paid their respects when necessary, and obeyed the orders put to them, when he remembered or was asked to give them. Most importantly, and to his relief regarding the entire situation, there had been very few questions about the absence of the charitable, albeit secluded, master. He could at the very least be grateful for that. They had seen his almost hostile reluctance to answer and had thought better of pressing the issue. Leaving them mostly to themselves was simple, explaining the absence of his master was not.

Now it felt as if it had happened a lifetime ago, and to someone else. That feeling of disconnect haunted him, and once more he would have to stand before that solemn idol and let its eyes bore into his. Perhaps this time that heavy gaze would freeze him where he stood, a frozen effigy, worry and fear etched forever on his face.

For a brief second lighting flashed and illuminated the room around him. While absorbed in his thoughts and memories he had not noticed the increasing strength of storm rolling down from the mountains. Now he could hear the accompanying thunder so close it felt as if it rattled the timber rafters above him. It was the flash of light that showed him that he had in fact reached his destination, had it not he might have walked head first into the paper screen. The taste of unease was bitter on his tongue like bile, and his stomach, he felt soon the organ would finally atrophy from all the stress, once more felt as if it was caught in a vice. There was no point in prolonging this torture, it was not as if his lord was deaf to the sounds of his approach, and anyway he had received a summons, an indication that he was expected. Torture, yes, torture was indeed what it felt like.

With a one final dry swallow Jaken, vassal to a great lord, announced his arrival before a closed and darkened door.

* * *

"Just go _get her_." The exasperated sigh was one of a thousand now, and there was no end in sight. He had listened to them since he had set foot in the village this early morning, still irritated. Being alone with his thoughts had done little to soothe him or ease his mind. And now, perched comfortably in a tree, he was doing his best to ignore the yakking from below him. "I _know_ you can hear me." Oh yeah, he could hear him. Subtlety was not one of the monk's talents. "This is childish, Inuyasha. What do you plan to accomplish by lingering here and pouting?" Anger, like a familiar friend, joined his irritation. Pouting? He wasn't pouting. He was standing his ground to prove a point. _Besides it's not like she can't find her way back on her own_ , he thought bitterly.

They had traveled to a small village while on the trail of a demon in possession of a shard of the shikon jewel. For nearly five days they had followed it, through a smelly marshland partly marred by a battle that had taken place there. From what he had seen the two-opposing sides had clashed here, both sides confident that the marshes would give them cover and hinder their enemies as well as. Both had been wrong. Instead of victories they now shared a grave, a grave of squelching mud and ragged scrubby foliage, a place that treated general and foot solider alike with the same innate and primitive indifference. Some of the men had died from the obvious wounds they had sustained, others had shown the signs of some swamp disease that undoubtedly spread to the men through bites from the various pests that littered the air above the murky water.

Aside from the bugs they had seen other unsavory things slip into the water from shadows beneath fronds and thick underbrush, things that slithered and bit and used the surrounding mist to cloak themselves while they waited patiently for prey to wander in. Behind him he could hear the distinct sound of open palms slapping exposed skin; more than once muttered curses mixed in with the intermittent slaps. The monk was the source of most of these slaps, cursing under his breath while scratching at his bitten neck. Kagome had asked him something but Inuyasha had not been listening closely enough to catch his answer. There had been another sound, one he did not immediately recognize, but by then his attention was back on the bodies scattered before him.

The ones stricken down by the disease looked like they had been worse off. Their faces and necks were black and swollen, a clear indication they suffocated at the end, while the rest of their bodies were sickeningly pale and partially shriveled. He was sure they had suffered from more than just the fever, their partly shriveled corpses were proof that something had feasted on them as well. The obvious signs of being ill were not the only thing that had ravaged these men. Large circular wounds, some going completely through the flesh, covered their bodies, each one still a livid red despite the pallor of the surrounding flesh. Those marks hadn't been made by some bug. Whatever had left them had gone after the sick as well as the healthy.

Kagome had come to stand beside him, a cloud of something with a strong scent hovering around her. Rummaging around in the large pack she carried with her he noticed the way she purposefully kept her eyes diverted from the corpses. "Want some?", she pulled out something he hadn't seen before, "It'll help with the bugs." She removed the top of whatever it was and aimed it at her neck, without warning the thing had started making a horrible hissing sound. His first instinct had been to snatch it from her and fling it into the nearest pool once he had heard it hiss like a trapped snake. Nothing that made noise like that could be safe. When she had seen the look on his face she had explained it was a "repel-lant" and that it, through some sort of "magic" kept insects from biting you. Or at least that was what he thought she had explained. Like many of the other things she brought with her from her time her explanations of them often left him confused and skeptical. Despite his suspicions surrounding the thing he had let the urge go, and realized that the sound he could not place earlier had come from that thing. Seemed like the monk had not wanted any part of it either.

"No thanks," he said turning once again to the bodies. "Besides, I don't need it." True enough he wasn't as bad off as the others. Since they had entered this filthy bog he'd only had to swat the gluttonous insects out of his face. She was putting the hissing thing back in her bag, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like "lucky you" under her breath when they had heard the child in the reeds.

They had all jumped at the small voice full of choked sobs and whimpers. "Maaa-ma, Maaaa-maa. Where are you, Mama?" it called, edging its way from mournful to near hysterical. Kagome had been the first to approach the copse of sickly looking trees and grass the voice had come from, calling out to it in that calm and soothing way she had. Before she had even taken a step, he should have held out an arm to stop her from approaching. Something in that voice was artificial, flat despite the rising volume. When she had reached out to pull a branch back, still speaking softly, it had clicked in his mind. _Danger_. "Kagome, get away from there!" She had turned around at his cry, surprise, and confusion in her eyes, but before she could pull her hand back from the brush, something mottled and pink had snaked itself around her left wrist and yanked her out of sight.

Remembering her scream, how quickly she was snatched away, made him grit his teeth. Below him the shouts had stopped, instead he could hear the lowered voices of people not at all concerned if their voices were low at all, and in fact fully intended on being heard. "-as a mule, Miroku. The only thing keeping him from going through that well is that giant head of his. I'm surprised it hasn't exploded yet."

Apparently Shippo had gotten over his sulking fit. The little fox had vehemently ignored him as soon as they had come back to the village. It was clear where he laid the blame in this situation. "Unfortunately, Shippo, in this situation the old saying is true. You can lead a mule to water, but you can't make it drink." Miroku replied in a tone that made Inuyasha believe that despite his irritation at this situation, Miroku was now smirking. "Except that in this case we're dealing not with a horse, but a jackass."

The grit had turned to a full grinding now as Inuyasha clenched his jaw tighter. It was easy for them to point fingers and gang up on him. It was easy to make him the bad guy when they only wanted to see it from their sides. _Her_ side.

Shame swelled inside him then. Could he really blame them? He had started it, that was the truth of it whether he liked it or not. He'd been the one to blow up first, letting his anger at the situation flare and turn on her. And now he was doing exactly what they were accusing him of. Seeing her vanish like that, hearing her scream, it had brought up the fear he fought tooth and nail to keep buried.

He had run after her a split second later. Miroku and Sango followed close behind him, all three screaming Kagome's name, all three tearing through the thick brush franticly. The thing that had taken Kagome came into view almost immediately, a creature that large was hard to miss. Inuyasha saw that the pink thing that had taken her was in fact the tongue of some misshapen demon, a reptile that crawled along on its belly by the looks of it. Its tongue lolled in a mouth large enough to swallow a small child whole. Teeth, sharp and discolored, lined it in a way that promised if you were unlucky enough to find yourself inside that mouth you could be sure you would never come out again. At the tip of the tongue, above the demon's head, Kagome dangled by her wrist. He could see her, several feet off the ground, trying free herself, digging her nails into the spongy flesh, her screams turning into shouts of indignation and anger.

He took step forward, his hand gripped around the hilt of his sword when a voice, barbarous and rasping issued from that horror of a mouth. "One more step and I'll devour the girl." To demonstrate its threat, it raised its large head and lowered Kagome until the tips of her shoes scraped the edge of its jagged teeth. Glee shone, fervent and dancing, in its sickly yellow eyes.

Miroku spoke then, "You lured us here, didn't you?" Inuyasha looked at him. He had suspected the same thing. It had been no coincidence that once starting the pursuit for the jewel shard they had ended up here. This was its domain and hunting ground, no doubt it saw this as an uncomplicated way to accumulate more jewel shards as well as feed. And now it had a means to cripple them even more with a hostage.

It chuckled, and in a mocking tone replied, "But of course. I saw a perfect opportunity and I seized it. Though I should admit, I did not for see it being so easy", it shook Kagome petulantly. Once again it began to imitate a child, raising its voice into wails and whimpers, only now it ululated shrilly, derisively edged. "Now, you, the slayer, and the half demon will drop your weapons and hand over any jewel shards you possess. Quickly." It smiled then, pleased with itself.

They all glanced around at one another silently, and each one slowly began to disarm themselves. Inuyasha was the last, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately, all the while he was watching those yellow eyes. The beast, preoccupied with watching who it saw as the deadliest of the three, Sango, as she unslung her hiraikotsu from her back and laid it on the ground beside her, had left itself open and vulnerable. The urge to take advantage of the situation was strong, and had it not been for Miroku he might have let that urge take him. In its taunting of Kagome, and careful observance of Sango, the demon had missed Miroku's deliberate and slow shake of his head, his eyes flicking to Inuyasha's and then just as quickly away and back to the demon. _Watch, wait_. Again, the monk spoke, lowering his staff to the mossy ground. "And what of the bodies of these soldiers? Are they your doing as well?" Its smiled widened even further, slaver dribbling from the corners of its mouth. "Not at all. Some insect demons after their blood made a meal of them. Though I do admit I love when they leave a few behind. It makes- ", it was then that Kirara pounced. She had silently stalked behind the demon, and had in fact been the first of them to notice its keen observance of Sango, taking advantage of the monster's ignorance and gaining the upper hand while Miroku kept it occupied. That had been why Miroku had stalled, keeping Inuyasha from rushing forward, and giving Kirara time to approach and attack. He had been the first to notice Kirara's absence and put the pieces together. The large cat tore through the lizard's appendage with ease, blood pumping from the severed stump in jets. The creature screamed and wailed as it reared back, its scaled arms flailing while it tried to grip the bleeding ruin of its tongue. Those yellow eyes, once smug and filled with delight over a sure triumph, rolled back in their sockets, wide with shock and agony.

Inuyasha lunged without hesitation, and with one swift motion caught Kagome in his arms. Had he waited any longer she would have collided with the earth below, possibly breaking bones on the way down. He could feel her hectic heartbeat as he set her down, his palm flat against her back to steady her. Her legs had slightly buckled when they had net the ground. When she held out the wrist that the creature had seized, the demon's tongue, still attached, twitched as blood dripped from it. With a cry of disgust, she pulled it off and threw it away from her. She turned to him then, her face pale but set with determination. "The shard is in the base of its tongue. I don't know how I missed it before," her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "It's like something was blocking the signal." She rubbed at her wrist and flexed the fingers, wincing as she did. A beat of silence hung between them, and in an instant, the anger inside him ignited. She had risked her life, done so for a child she hadn't even _seen_ , but what seemed to bother her most was the shard. How could she have been that reckless, acting as if she had not seen enough, been through enough to know better. And now faced with the reality that had things not gone the way they had, had they not been quick and perceptive, or had Kirara stumbled. Well, he realized the consequences even if she did not. He could have lost her.

When she noticed he had not replied she looked him in the eye. "Inuyasha... I'm- ", but the rest of her words were cut off by a roar of hatred. They turned to see the demon had regained its self-control and turned its baleful eyes on them. When it tried to speak the words were wet and garbled, realizing this made the fury in those eyes burn brighter; it fell for their trickery, and its own mouth and willingness to gloat had led to the mutilation of is tongue. It charged, bloody ribbons of flesh trailing beneath its scaled body, the only discernable noises it could make was a pain induced shrieks that sounded astonishingly close to weeping.

Inuyasha shoved Kagome behind him, harder than he had intended to, and ignored her cry of displeasure at the roughness of his action. Once more he wrapped his fingers around the well-worn hilt of his sword and withdrew it, feeling the thrum of power ring through the blade. In its madness, the demon paid no attention the sword, blinded by hate and rage it meant to meet him head on. But its final stand was in vain.

In an arc, the giant boomerang split the lizard's hide, tail to head, exposing the gleaming bone beneath. It screeched and howled, for what would be the last time, reared up again, and collapsed in a twitching heap.

"Give me a heads up next time, would ya!" Inuyasha yelled over the jerking body at the slayer. She straightened, having now caught her large weapon; it looked as imposing as ever across her back in its accustomed place. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, his tone had been sharp and unexpectedly hostile. "I didn't think you would want to attack that demon from such a close range with Kagome right behind you," she responded looking mildly annoyed as she came forward. Inuyasha sheathed his sword and scoffed. "Why should I care? It's not like she was worried about herself." Both young women stared openly at him. Neither said a word. Sango had carefully kept her face blank while hurt and animosity warred on Kagome's. She had come from behind him to let Sango inspect her arm, but had let it hang at her side when she had heard his tone. The guilt he felt seeing the hurt in her eyes was strong, but in the end his temper and rashness had won out. "How stupid could you be taking off like that? Anything could've been hiding behind those bushes, this time it just so happened to be a demon who wanted to kill us all and was more than willing to use you to do it." she drew back a bit, color rising in her cheeks, her own temper close to lost, she had open her mouth to respond but he hadn't given her the chance. "Next time you decide to do that you're on your own, 'cause I _won't_ be going after you."

Without waiting for either of them to reply he turned away and bent to examine the now still demon that had created all these problems. The shard was exactly where she had said it would be, nestled between the folds of spongy flesh at the base of the gory ruined appendage. At first, he hadn't noticed the monk standing near the curled tail; when their eyes met the other man had shaken his head with disapproval and said nothing, choosing instead to make his feelings known by joining the others and comforting Kagome. And by the time they had all come together again, Kagome with her back to him, her backpack, now soggy and wet, bumping between her shoulders, and the others, whispering amongst themselves and looking over their shoulders at him every so often, the time to apologize had passed. He hadn't even bothered, he would later realize, to ask whether her wrist was all right or not. Shippo had asked questions when they had retrieved him from his safe hiding place. He had hidden beneath the roots of a gnarled tree where Kirara had eft him before her attack, and after reuniting with them had asked questions of each of them. Eventually, the small demon determined what had happened mostly on his own, it had not been difficult, even Kirara had looked pointedly at Inuyasha, her muzzle still bloody and pulled tight as if in disappointment. Inuyasha had said nothing, Kagome had only said it didn't matter and had reached out to pat the little fox on his head reassuringly. Soon enough he too was commiserating with the others, shooting unhappy looks in Inuyasha's direction. The general mood of the group deteriorated quickly and by the end Sango and Miroku hadn't been speaking either, having argued between themselves over something Inuyasha hadn't heard or cared about.

Kaede was waiting on the edge of the village for their return. The small smile on her face had faltered immediately when she had gotten a good look at the lot of them. Kagome had greeted her half-heartedly and had excused herself before Kaede could ask what was wrong. Next had been Sango, she had kept her words short and told them she was returning to her village to tend to her weaponry. The chill between herself and the monk could have extinguished a wildfire. Shippo had grown outwardly sullen after that, ignoring Inuyasha completely even while tears ran down his dirty cheeks as he told Kaede his fragmented tale of what had happened. The elderly priestess, having gathered enough information by then, had spoken her piece, scolded, and counseled in her stoic way despite seeing that her words would do nothing to rectify the situation in its current state. He had snapped at her, as he was known to do when his mood was dark and he knew she was indeed right. Choosing not to wait around and endure any more lecturing he had stalked off to the forest. Let the Monk fill her in. He didn't need to answer to anyone.

Inuyasha, well past done with the sour memories, shouted down to his mutinous friends. "Shut up would ya'! You both are wasting your time, I'm not going anywhere. She can come back on her own." There was a pause in the conspiratorial whispers below him. "Fine Inuyasha," Miroku sighed, having finally given up, for the time being anyway. "Obviously Shippo and I aren't going to convince you. But you should at least _consider_ going after her. By now you should know that a stalemate between you two does no one any good." He stamped the ground with his staff as if physically punctuating his statement gave it more weight. Shippo, always transparent with his feelings, had grunted in agreement. Miroku and Shippo retreated, both exasperated and silent. Both of them feeling strongly about how satisfying it would be to clout a certain half demon across his thick head.

Sometime after the sound of retreating footsteps had died away and the sounds of the surrounding forests were the only ones he could hear, he finally weakened and lowered himself down from what he was loath to acknowledge was his hiding place. He knew that by now the monk would have reached Kaede and would be relaying their interactions to her. She would be preparing lunch for them while they discussed their next plan of action to berate him into complying. He raised his arm and rotated it slowly, the joint popped loudly and the ensuing rush of blood tingled in his fingertips. Stiffness in his joints was not a good sign. A scrape across his cheek, itching as it slowly healed was, along with his breath coming labored and heavy as he had climbed up the tree's limbs, were also distressing. The new moon was upon him once again, and as always, he was not ready for it.

The ability to brush off physically injuries was something he took advantage of often, pushing himself to the edge in nearly every battle he fought. Pushing himself to the brink, relying on the blood that was both a gift, and a curse. Testing his limits was part of the territory in his eyes. Now he was facing a night in a human body, vulnerable and weak. The scratched on his cheek itched then and he ran a finger over it. The slow way it was healing should have been a glaring warning before now. Had he not been blinded by contempt perhaps he would have caught it. Though he would not say it aloud, he was glad Kagome had gone when she did. Every instance of strength drained from his body put him on edge and sharpened the shame he felt over succumbing to the moon and becoming nothing more than a mortal man who cannot protect those around him. Protecting her, keeping her safe, was that not his duty foremost? Had he not repeatedly told her so himself? His strength is what he felt he owed the pleasure of having her by his side. A blush creeped up from his collar and warmed his cheeks. Thinking like this, about his feelings surrounding her, always flustered him. There were times when they would all be sitting together in the evenings talking amongst themselves when he would look at her, often she would have already been looking at him, a smile on her face, the warmth of it stirring a fluttering in his stomach. _And yet you told her you wouldn't go after her again, even if she was in danger. You fool,_ he thought to himself and frowned. The contradiction between how he felt and what he said to her that day was so absurd and embarrassingly clear. And now she was back in her own time, and he was here, dwelling on his stupid actions. She had thought a child was in need and had not thought twice about reaching out to them. Her heart had led her to act, not a lack of self-preservation. And had she not done the same for him? After years of slumber and isolation she had been the first one to show him any kindness and in turn he had condemned her for it when he had let his mouth and anger get the better of him.

Off in the distance the voices of farm hands were rising. Soon the sounds of hoes and picks would fill the air as they tilled the earth, preparing a new field for future planting. The young and old working together to provide for the entire village. Again, he was reminded of that day, how she had pulled the arrow from his chest. The villagers, who feared and despised him both then and at his resurrection, and their reluctant but consequent acceptance of him was another instance of what Kagome had done for him. Elders, who at the time were young and had watched their beloved priestess die before their eyes, were sure to tell their offspring the tales surrounding the half demon whose lust for power had led to tragedy, and the evidence of that had come in the form of their descendant's immediate hatred of him that day. Though his actions and perpetuation of all those fables about his volatility had not helped. He could remember the way their eyes felt on him then. The hostility, fear, disgust. It had been Kagome and her willingness to join him, to stay beside him, that had softened them in the end.

He sighed and turned in the direction of the well. He would go after her, now, and do his best to apologize. He waited too long already maybe. The monk had been right, and as much as he hated that, it was true. All of this, the realization of his mistakes and the acceptance of his responsibilities were what mattered at this moment, not his begrudging acknowledgement of the truth in the monk's accusations. But just as he had started toward the ancient well he caught a scent on the air. A scent that was both familiar and welcoming. It seemed that he wouldn't have to cross time to make his apology after all.

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A/N

Hello everyone, while I was submitting this second chapter (three times might I add. I'm not particularly good with technological stuff and for some reason I kept missing revisions and such.) I noticed that I had uploaded chapter one around four weeks ago. I was surprised so much time had passed. My hopes are that while writing I'll find a good flow between that and life's responsibilities. Fingers crossed. Again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. - peachfur


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